


Hymn for the Dead, Hymn for the Dying

by Manya_Kami



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Free-verse poem, Funeral, Gen, Hakuryuu-centric, More Useless Metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:39:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6759835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manya_Kami/pseuds/Manya_Kami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakuryuu is left in ruin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hymn for the Dead, Hymn for the Dying

...

Twin black coffins rest side by side.

A third, not so much larger, is draped in fine golden silks.

...

Black flags hang low 'round the palace.

...

Faceless, soundless figures parade in inky obsidian,

casting the building in sorrow.

...

The air is still.

The sky is low.

...

Heavy bags of rain drip,

drip,

_drop_

from clouds above,

as if the sky too is weeping for the fallen.

...

Everything is cold,

so,

_so_

cold that it chills down to the very foundation of one's soul.

...

Those who still cling to miniscule morsels of hope

wish for those who are now long asleep

to comfort, to warm them.

...

Little children cower under the

_tight grip_

that Death has on the castle,

and the sorrow it brings.

Death has spread its glossy fine wings

and taken flight.

Its mournful howl echoes through the castle's darkest halls.

...

A tiny a little boy,

one who can't be more than four year of age,

wants Death to take him too.

...

He wants to

_see_

them again,

wherever they are now.

He wants to

_go_

wherever they are going,

because without them the world is

~~scary~~

**dark**

_lonely_

cold,

...

And-

 

he is very afraid.

...

Afraid of the monster that takes the shape of his mother.

Afraid of those is the castle that don't identify as servants, or royalty, who wear masks to cover their true occupation.

Afraid of the network of black, tainted blood that works into his brain that keeps him from _thinking_ straight.

...

He is very afraid.

He doesn't want to lose himself.

...

But he finds,

that without the presence of

_the_ _m_ ,

he just might.

...

...

...

...

Voices talk to him in the night.

Hands wrap around him, embracing him when he is entirely alone.

...

Now, many years after the departure of his

brothers,

of his

father,

he finds that there is truly nothing left of himself, at all.

...

He might as well be dead.

Be dying.

...

...

...

.....

...

...

...

_In the morning,_

_I'd like to wake up_

_like I once was._

_I'd like to smile,_

_and laugh,_

_without faking anything._

_I'd like to be happy, again._

_But silly, silly me._

_Corpses don't get to wake up,_

_and be happy._

_Not even the ones that 'live.'_

...

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I just. I mean - for shame. I need to come up with better things to write. Really, I do.


End file.
